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04-08-2015, 08:10 PM
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The rich metals and crafting were taking their toll on Bucephalus, and never had the stallion appeared as...gaunt as he did now. Azeeza fluttered in the air, concerned for her beloved who merely pushed her worries aside. He was fine, there was too much to do for him to rest or stop walking. The arena, the church, healer huts, armors, weapons... the richness in the earth needed to be taken advantage of while it lasted. Hence why he was moving ore from the mines towards the Fire, ready to be used whenever someone came with a request. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and too damn stubborn to lay down and take a day off from doing anything. It was because he was afraid. He lurked, waking from whatever slumber held the darkness at bay. Even now he could feel it stretching through his thoughts, widening the cracks in his focus and breaking down his defenses. It took advantage of his weakened state, of his mental wariness and inability to fully block Him from his thoughts. Azeeza helped, though it was not enough. Desperate, confused and afraid for her bonded the falconet wheeled, taking off towards the Oasis to find a familiar face to help, hoping it would be enough to drag the black back from the cusp of breaking. Nothing was enough. So distracted by the inner turmoil was he that the Morningstar actually tripped, dropping hard to his knees, teeth snapping together as his chin hit the ground. Wings flared out, churning at the air and stirring the sand before he groaned and flopped over onto his side with a grunt, head on the ground. Yep. He wasn't budging. He couldn't, not when he was so sleepy, so tired... yet he didn't dare sleep. He wouldn't be himself when he woke. @[Ampere] "Altan's speech." "Buce's speech." |
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